


When the Day Met the Night

by duskanddawn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: I dont even know what to tag this??, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-28 03:59:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6314455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duskanddawn/pseuds/duskanddawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson is 24 years old. His current residence is Doncaster Royal Infirmary, where he was admitted a little over a month ago following a severe car accident, that he still isn't up for talking about.<br/>Harry Styles is 22, and has just started a job as a doctor in Doncaster Royal Infirmary. He's moved up from his home of Cheshire, and is eagerly anticipating the new chapter in his life.<br/>When Harry is assigned to be Louis' personal doctor, neither of them know what they're getting themselves into. They change each other's lives in ways they didn't think were possible.</p><p>side note: I am by no means a medical expert. I work in the childcare profession. Any work I write is fictional, although, I have based my writings through personal experience; the therapy side of it is from asking my mum, who suffered a stroke when she was 21, and attended 9 months of intensive physical rehabilitation. It is also based on what I have seen and what I have read/been told, so if something is not accurate, or wrong, or not as you may know it to be, that is the reason why. If anything I write is offensive or triggering to anyone, please let me know what I can do to resolve the situation. Thank you :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Endings and Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I know I've done fics before but I'm terrible at multiple-chapter ones because I end up doubting them and never finish them. This one is an idea that I've had for years to write, and a few months ago sat down and started planning it, so it could work properly (I hope). I hope you enjoy. Please let me know what you think! More chapters to come - I don't know how many, but I'll take it as it comes. I may take ages to upload chapters as I'm busy with work and my chapters are quite lengthy, but please know I haven't forgotten about it, and am keen to keep updating. It is what it is, I guess.
> 
> Please let me know what you think! Thank you,  
> Gem x

_**Louis**_

As Louis gently stirs, his eyelids flutter for a few seconds, trying to take in his surroundings. Confused, it takes him a minute to realise. When he does, he closes his eyes again, feeling the familiar flash of anger stir inside him. He can't believe he _actually_ forgot. _Scrap that, yes I can,_ he thinks. _Seems like I've forgotten how to do even the most_ basic _things ever since the accident._ He tries to let out a huff, but it gets stuck in his throat, making him cough. It comes out rattled, and he can feel the phlegm in his lungs. He coughs some more, and tastes blood. He shudders, trying to calm himself down. 

"Ah good, you're awake!" A voice Louis knows calls over to him. It takes Louis everything in him not to roll his eyes, as he slowly moves his head in the direction of where the voice just came from. Yep, he's right. He looks up into the face of Doctor Richard Armstrong, the man who has been overseeing Louis' progress since he was admitted a month and a half ago. Louis _hates_ Dr Armstrong. For someone who is a doctor, he seems like he has no patience. He's a sarcastic little shit as well: Louis is too, but in his opinion, you shouldn't have that trait as a doctor. Especially when patients could have gone through, or could be going through _anything_. It's like fighting fire with fire, really. He's made it known that he doesn't like him, and Louis gets the feeling that it's mutual from Dr. Armstrong. Normally he wouldn't care less, but since he has no idea how long he is gonna be stuck here, it means he doesn't know how long he's gonna be stuck with _him._ It's already painful trying to remain positive around him.  
"Got some sad news for you today, young man" comes Dr. Armstrong's voice again. Louis hates the way he talks to him, it's as if he is always condescending him, like every word is said to scorn him. He feels like a child who has been caught doing something wrong, and he feels like it all the _fucking time._ “As of today, I won’t be the one overlooking your care.”  
Louis looks at Dr. Armstrong, shock going through him.  
“What?” Louis says, thinking that maybe he has misheard him.  
“No, it’s not April Fools Day” he winks, and Louis has to fight off yet _another_ eyeroll because this dickhead _actually_ thinks he’s funny. “I’m stepping down as your assigned doctor. You’ll be assigned someone new a little bit later on today. He’s on his way now, so you’ll meet him in a short while, I should expect.”  
_Wonderful._ Louis thought. As relieved as what Louis was upon receiving this news, he was also slightly unnerved. As much as Louis was going to be relieved of the break, he couldn’t help but wonder if the new doctor was going to be _worse_ than Dr. Armstrong. He started to worry a bit, but told himself to calm down before it showed up on a monitor. Dr. Armstrong said something else, but Louis didn’t hear it properly. Something about coming back in later. Whatever. He was tired, so he closed his eyes. _Not like I’ve got anything better to stay awake for, is it?_ He thought bitterly, just before he drifted back into sleep.

“Louis? Louis?”  
As if being interrupted from his sleep by _him_ wasn’t enough, he can’t even get his name right. “Lew-is” he kept saying. _It’s Lou-ee, fuckwit_ he thought. He might’ve even said it out loud. Who knows?  
“Come on, you need to be awake for Dr. Styles. He’s just nicely arrived, and is in my office filling in some paperwork before he comes and introduces himself.”  
“Dr who?” Louis asks, confused.  
“No, Doctor Styles!” Armstrong cracks out, and Louis swears to himself that if he had complete use of his legs, he would kick that idiot _so hard_ “Your new doctor, remember? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already!” He shakes his head.  
“Last time I checked, it was loss of movement in my legs, not my brain” Louis says, acidity in his voice. It's quiet for a moment, before Dr Dickhead speaks again.  
“Oh dear, someone has reawoken on the wrong side of the bed this morning” the ever-jovial, ever-condescending Doctor Armstrong remarks. Louis used to feel bad for snapping at him, for taking his moods out on him, but now he doesn’t care. He swears that half the time, Armstrong does it on purpose. He’s suddenly not anxious for the arrival of the new doctor. In fact, he’s feeling practically euphoric. 

"Okay, Louis” Richard begins, stepping closer to him. “I will bid you farewell. You’ll probably see me around from time to time, but I’m going to hand you over to Dr. Styles now."  
There was a pause, then Louis realised that the silence was Dr. Armstrong waiting for a response.  
“Ah, right. Well, erm, thank you for everything” he said, a little awkwardly. He wasn’t good at small talk. It was even harder when it was someone he would rather punch in the face than exchange pleasantries with.  
“Not a problem” Dr. Armstrong replied, with what Louis noted as a genuine smile. Slightly terrifying, but at least it was genuine. He extended his hand, and Louis shook it, respectfully. After all, he had looked after him. He could be a hell of a lot worse that what he was now. He guessed a small part of him was thankful. Dr. Armstrong’s hand went to Louis’ left shoulder, and it placed it atop it, squeezing once, then patting it a few times. It reminded Louis of the comical way he would see people, particularly women, feeling loaves of bread in the supermarket to see how fresh they were. It was such a _mum_ thing to do. It was something _his_ mum did in Tesco. The thought made him smile.  
“You take care, and get those legs going again. Okay? The sooner you do, the sooner you can be up and down that pitch again.”  
“Yeah, I will. You took. Take care, that is. Your legs already work.” He laughs, simultaneously thinking _twat_. They say bye once more, then Doctor Dick exits the room swiftly.

 

_**Harry**_

Harry parks up in the multi-storey car park in his Range Rover, remembering to park in the space reserved for him. _Styles_ it reads, a simple six-letter word, typed up and printed off on an A4 piece of paper. _We’ll get you a proper reservation block with your name on, it'll just take a few weeks to be made and sent back to us._ This was one of the things that had been discussed in the meeting Harry had with his boss, a few days after being told he had got the job. He’d been gobsmacked when he’d received the call: he was only 22, and when Mark Mayhew, his boss, had congratulated Harry upon being given the position as a General Practitioner at Doncaster Royal Infirmary. Mr Mayhew had been ‘thoroughly impressed’ by Harry’s CV, especially his work ethic, for ‘someone so young’ who ‘seemed to have at least 15 years worth of experience in just 4’. Harry had felt the bubble of pride inflate inside of him to the size of a hot air balloon. WIth shaky hands, he’d thanked Mr Mayhew for the millionth time, and as he put the phone down, had gone to tell his mum, stepdad and sister, who were all waiting rather (im)patiently for the news in the dining room of their Cheshire home. It was like the day of his driving test all over again. He twisted the door open, keeping his face as neutral as possible. Anne, his mum, was watching his every move from the second she had seen the door begin to open, desperately tuning in to her baby to hear the news. Upon seeing he wasn’t at least beaming, her heart dropped a little.  
“So, how did it go, poppet?” She asked, trying to keep the wave of emotion out of her voice.  
“I… uh….” Harry mumbled. She got up immediately, walking over to him, her arms instinctively reached out for her boy. She tried to tell herself not to embarrass him, not to overcrowd him, but he is her boy, her baby, he is still only so _young_ , and the urge to wrap her arms around him and shield him from the world was still as strong as it had been when she had first given birth to him.  
“I got the job, mum” he said quietly, looking up into her face. At that moment, he looked both a small child and a maturing adult, and it had tugged at something within Anne. A split second of silence followed, then the whole house seemed to erupt. Gemma, Harry’s older sister, ran over to him, wrapping her arms around him, kissing his cheeks and congratulating him. Robin, his stepdad, hugged him, tears in his eyes as his pride for his son shone through. Anne was crying and cheering, shouting ‘my baby! My baby’s done it! I’m so proud of you! My shining star!’ 

The rest of the day was spent by Harry being congratulated by his friends and family, and him starting to look for a place to live in Doncaster. He was due to start his job in just under three months, but he wanted to make sure he had found a place and get settled in plenty of time. Being nervous about starting the job was enough - he didn’t want the extra worry of finding a place, too. The sooner he could find a decent priced house or flat, the sooner he could get accustomed to Doncaster and start to familiarise himself with ways around the town. As much as it was overwhelming for him, it was just as exciting. It was a whole new chapter in his life, and he couldn’t wait. 

Just over a month later, Harry had managed himself a two-bedroomed house to rent, about a 20 minute journey from the hospital. He’d been able to pay the deposit which was needed upfront - he’d had it in his mind to save in advance, so he knew he would be able to live comfortably until at least his first months’ wage came in, and not be skint after the first week. The biggest weekly expenses would be his car and the rent: the Land Rover had been a gift from Robin for his 21st birthday, to which he had been fully grateful for, as it was completely unexpected. He’d done the maths, and knew he would be okay until pay day.  
He felt like everything was moving into place, albeit quickly, and Harry felt very lucky and excited at the prospect of this new beginning. 

 

_**Louis**_

Louis finds himself biting anxiously at the skin around his thumbnail. He looks over at the clock on the wall. 10:45. He notices how the clock is on a slight angle. He goes to stand up to go and straighten it, then he remembers. It’s anger that hits him first, then sadness. It’s so _frustrating._ He knows he’s lucky to be alive, and even though he doesn’t act like it, he _is_ still grateful to be here. Life before the accident had been pretty good: he’d been working at Doncaster Rovers Football Club as an under 11s coach under a new scheme the club was trialling, to encourage more children to be active more frequently. He loved his footy, and he loved kids, so when he was offered the job, he gladly accepted it. The hours were intense, especially in holiday time, but it was worth every second. It also helped out his family: he was one of seven, and his mum and step-dad Daniel worked tirelessly to be able to provide for them all. It wasn’t the best-paid job, but it gave him his independence, and it meant that he was able to take a bit of the pressure away from his mum and Daniel. His family is his whole world, and the only reason why he finds the strength to wake up every day. His mum was always close to him - quite literally, too: she works as a senior midwife in the same hospital he is staying in. He took comfort in the fact that he was able to see him mum regularly every day - it actually helped to make this whole ordeal bearable. Just. It made him sad to think about his job: he wouldn’t be going back for a _long_ time. If at all. They had been really supportive when they had found out, and a lot of the people who worked there, and some of the children, had been to visit him. 

As Louis sits up, looking at the clock that was all _wrong_ , he was unaware of Harry walking down the corridor along with Dr. Armstrong. He was also unaware of the fact that Harry had just been briefed on Louis, being warned that he can be _difficult_ sometimes, and not to take it personally when (not if, but _when_ ) he takes his temper out on him.  


Now, Louis was wondering about the new doctor. _Styles_. Funny name, that. Well, it isn’t funnier than Armstrong. A name like Armstrong and the fella works in a hospital. Oh, the irony! It is the knock at the door that interrupts Louis’ internal monologue. It’s brief, but enough to make him look up. In the month-and-a-half since he was admitted, no one has ever knocked, just barged in. For the first time that day, Louis is surprised.


	2. New Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Here is chapter two. I am loving writing this, and have so many ideas I'm so excited to share with you all! I've sort of changed up how I'm writing it, as I've realised just how much I can write for one chapter alone, so if I've repeated myself or keep changing person in the way in which I write, I'm really sorry - I'm going to read what I've published again and change any errors as best I can. Please let me know what you think. 
> 
> PS: Happy Easter to those who celebrate it! I hope you have had a good few days of celebration, even if you have only lounged around and eaten your bodyweight in chocolate ;) I know I've enjoyed a few days off work, but sadly I'm back to reality tomorrow. Good job I love my job, haha!  
> Thanks,  
> Gem x

**_Harry_**

Harry checks his phone as he makes his way towards reception. A text from his mum, which doesn’t surprise him. He rolls his eyes fondly, and feels a small tug as he thinks of how he misses her.

 **_Good luck darling!! Text me when you’re able to, to let me know how it’s going. I love you xxx_**

Harry quickly types back: **_I will. I love you, too .xxx_** before putting his phone back into his pocket. As he walks into reception, the first thing he does is spot the small Costa outlet within the front of the building. This pleases him greatly, and he heads over to it, taking his wallet out of one of the inside pockets of his jacket. It’s quiet, and he doesn’t wait long before he is served by a not-so-happy-looking lady with blue hair. When he walks over to her, however, she seems to perk up a little bit.  
“Hi, what can I get you?”  
“Hi, can I please have a simply sencha green tea, please?”  
“Of course you can. Is that to take out?”  
“Yes, please” he nods, smiling briefly at her. He gives her the money, then waits patiently as the tea is prepared and put into the cardboard cup, the lid placed on, as she hands it over to him. He thanks her warmly, and turns to walk away. As he switches the cup from one hand to another, he momentarily isn’t paying attention to what is in front of him, and stumbles into someone. He immediately feels the burn of liquid on his skin, and grimaces softly. He looks up to see a lady with a shocked expression on her face, and notices a bit of what he soon realises is coffee, has spilled onto her blue tunic.  
“Oh god, I’m so, so sorry” Harry exclaims, immediately putting his tea down, and grabbing a handful of napkins, passing them to the lady. “You aren’t burned, are you? I’m so sorry, it’s completely my fault.”  
“Don’t worry petal, accidents happen” she smiles, looking into his eyes. He notices she has a kind face, a gentle one. “I’m fine. You, on the other hand - you’ve come off worse than me! Let me have a look at your hand” she says, and, without thinking, he extends it. She pats it dry with the napkin, and the endearing gesture reminds him of his mum. He thinks of her again for the second time that day, smiling to himself. “You might want to get some cold water on that, it might swell” she says, her face flashing with concern.  
“I will, thank you,” He smiles, and sees she has a nametag on her tunic, “Mrs Deakin”  
“Oh please, call me Johannah!” She smiles warmly, seemingly oblivious that Harry is in fact a complete stranger who has just spilled _her_ coffee all over himself and her, and _not_ one of his mum’s friends that he has just been introduced to.  
“Please let me buy you another coffee, Johannah. It’s the least I can do, I feel terrible.”  
“Oh, bless your heart. You don’t have to do that, honestly!”  
“Please, I insist.” Harry says urgently, and gently steers her towards the counter, to be greeted by the same girl who had just served him. This time, however, she doesn't look so happy.  
“Can I please get another…” Harry trails off, looking to Johannah.  
“Flat white, please” she says, looking from Harry to the barista.  
“Another flat white, for Mrs. Deakin, please” he finishes, taking his wallet out and handing her the money over. When the barista hands Harry the change, he gently presses it into Johanna’s hand, closing her fingers around it. When she looks down, her face pulled into a frown from confusion, he simply says: “get your next couple on me.” When Johannah tries to hand Harry the money back, protesting, he shakes his head firmly.  
“Thank you so much…” Johannah says, her turn to trail off.  
“Harry” he adds, smiling kindly at her.  
“You are very, very kind, Harry” she says, her free hand squeezing his hands gently. “I will remember this for a long time.”  
“Not a problem. I’m just sorry you never got to enjoy your first coffee” he pouts slightly. “It won’t happen again. And, if by some small chance it does, I’ll start up a tab, and you can charge it to me” he chuckles, and her face breaks out into a lovely smile before she laughs gently. He picks up Johanna’s coffee and hands it to her, very carefully, before picking his own tea up from the table in which he had placed it upon.  
“Thanks again, Harry.”  
“You’re very welcome. I’m sorry again” he laughs, and she just shakes her head gently, smiling. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, and no other clumsy people spill beverages on you.”  
Johannah laughs again. “Thank you, poppet. You enjoy the rest of your day, as well” she smiles. They say bye to each other, wave, and head off in different directions. 

Harry heads to reception, where he is met by a tired-but-friendly-looking older lady.  
“Yes, love. What can I do for ya?” She asks, her northern accent particularly strong.  
“Good morning, my name is Doctor Harry Styles, and it’s my first day here. I’m meant to be meeting with Doctor Armstrong as I arrive, but to be completely honest, I don’t completely know my way around yet, and was wondering if you could help me find him.”  
“Not a problem, Doctor Styles!” She says, grinning at him. “Tell you what, I’ll give him a ring, tell him to come and meet you here”  
“That would be great, thank you” Harry smiles, as the lady picks up the phone. Whilst he waits, he has a sip of tea, thinking about how nice Johannah was.  
“He’ll be down in a minute, doctor” the lady says, as she places the receiver back into the phone.  
“Brilliant. Thank you” he smiles, and she smiles warmly. He stands to one side, so as not to stop anyone else from getting assistance should they need it. A few moments later, a figure starts walking towards Harry, which he is quick to recognise as Dr. Armstrong.  
“Ah, Dr. Styles! Good morning!” He says, moving forward and shaking Harry’s hand eagerly. _Bloody hell,_ Harry thinks, but externally, shakes his hand gives him a warm smile.  
“Good morning, Mr. Armstrong” Harry replies, polite as always.  
“Please, call me Richard” he beams, and Harry notices how happy he is. Actually, maybe happiness isn’t quite the right word… relief, maybe? “Now then, Harry, if you’ll accompany me to my office, I will have a quick chat with you, and we’ll go from there.”  
“Certainly” Harry nods, and follows in the lead of Richard. When they reach his office a few minutes later, Harry is let in, as Richard motions to the chair on one side of the desk for Harry to sit in. As he does so, he makes sure to sit up straight (because he can hear his mother scorning him softly: _‘it’ll ruin your posture, love.’_ ), as Richard takes the seat at the opposite side, his side, of the oak desk.  
“First of all, welcome to our team, Harry. We really are thrilled to have you working with us. Your CV is exceptional for someone your age, and we know you will be a really valuable asset to not just our team, but the Infirmary as a whole. I wanted to have a chat with you because I wanted to know how you would feel about something I’ve had the idea of,” he pauses.  
“Well, thank you for having me,” Harry begins, feeling that sense of pride once more. “What is your idea?”  
“Well, I have been the personal carer of a patient here since he was admitted, a little over a month and a half ago. I have given it great thought, and I’m going to propose that you take over my position as his primary carer.”  
Richard pauses again, looking closely at Harry. It certainly wasn’t what Harry had been expecting, but the mention of it had intrigued him.  
“If you think I would be suitable for the position, given that I’m only just starting, I will gladly take on the role” he says slowly, hoping that he has worded it correctly. He watches Richard closely, and is surprised to see what looks like relief wash over his face.  
“That’s fantastic! I think you will be perfect for the role. I will just give you a bit of background info on the patient,” he says, and Harry nods, listening carefully. “The patient’s name is Louis Tomlinson. He’s a local lad, from here in Doncaster. He is 24 years old, and was admitted recently following a serious car accident. He was the driver of the vehicle, and unfortunately, his car was hit by another car as he was pulling out of a junction. The other vehicle came out of nowhere, and Louis couldn’t stop or try and move in time, and, as a result, Louis has sadly lost the movement in both of his legs. Our consultants and physicists have thoroughly assessed him, and are confident that he will be able to regain complete, if not near complete, movement in both of his limbs, once he begins physical rehabilitation and therapy.”  
Harry sits quietly, taking this information in. He instantly feels so sorry for the poor guy, who, only 2 years older than himself, has already been through more than Harry may ever go through himself. An accident with that kind of implication is bound to have had a lasting effect on him, Harry has no doubt of that.  
“Now, the thing you have to understand about Louis is, he’s…” he trailed off, seeming to contemplate how to phrase the rest of his sentence, “...difficult, at times. As you’ll appreciate, the recuperation process depends completely upon the individual: the extent of their injuries, their willingness to cooperate with the medical teams, and so on. Now, Louis is very stubborn. He has good days and bad days, but mostly bad days. He’s very vocal - he says what he wants to say, and finds it hard at times to bite his tongue. He can be very sarcastic: his words can often sound cutting when he doesn’t necessarily intend for them to. Please, don’t take it personally. I haven’t scared you off, have I?” He asked, and he only looked (and sounded) like he was half-joking.  
“No, not at all,” Harry says, shaking his head. He was still trying to digest the information that he had just received, but what kind of doctor (what kind of _human_ would he be if he flat-out refused to care for the first patient that he is given?  
“We’ll trial it for a month, and then we’ll reassess it afterwards. If you are happy to continue caring for Louis, that's what you will do.”  
“Okay, yeah, that sounds fair.” Harry says honestly, thinking that a month of caring for someone constantly would be enough for him to start to get to know Louis, and know whether he is suited for caring for him.  
“Excellent” Richard smiles. “Okay, Harry. I'm going to go and tell Louis that you’re here, and say goodbye to him. Whilst I do that, there’s a couple of bits of admin I’d like you to fill in for me, if you wouldn't mind.”  
“Not at all” Harry smiles. He watches as Richard picks up a few pieces of paper he has sitting in one of the desk tidies he has, and hands them over to him.  
“If you could read through and then sign these, that would be great, Harry.”  
“Sure” Harry nods, pulling out a Parker pen from the inside breast pocket of his jacket.  
“Good chap. What a nice pen! You can always tell a man by the pen in which he writes with” Richard smiles. Harry thinks that this is a rather odd thing to say, but smiles politely anyway. “I’ll let you fill those in, while I go and say my goodbyes to Louis,” he repeats, and Harry nods again, “I’ll return in 5 minutes or so, then you can go ahead and introduce yourself.”  
“Sounds like a plan” Harry says, and as Dr. Armstrong stands, he pats Harry on his shoulder twice before leaving his office, closing the door behind him.

After Harry had finished the couple of administrative documents he’d been given, he placed them in a neat pile, put his pen back in his pocket, and finished the last of his tea, before getting up and putting it in the half-full bin located in a corner of the room. He thought again of Johannah, still feeling guilty about what had happened. He thought about her uniform, and realised she must work in the hospital somewhere. He was just thinking about possibly getting her some flowers, if he could find out which department she worked in, when Richard walked back into the room.  
“Aah, fantastic. You finished them. I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long.”  
“No, not at all” Harry smiles, and stands up.  
“Well I’ll let you go and introduce yourself to Louis, whilst I go and run a few errands. If you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to come and find me, or get a colleague to get me.”  
“Okay. Thanks, Dr. Armstrong”  
“It’s Richard, remember?” He smiles, and Harry sees a gentle side to him, a genuine one. The smile was slightly terrifying, he thought, but at least it was genuine. Harry nods his okay, smiling, as he makes his way towards the door where Richard was stood. He holds the door open for Harry as they make their way out of his office, along and down the corridors until they reached a door. “This is Louis’ room. He has a private room as a result of the behaviour that he can display when he becomes frustrated. It’s not as bad as it was when he initially got to us, but we all think it is for the best that he continues to be kept in a private room, at least until he shows significant improvement.”  
Harry doesn't say anything, just nods, frowning slightly. "Go in when you're ready, Harry" Richard smiles, and turns to walk away. Harry takes a deep breath, makes sure his clothes are smoothed out, and reaches out his hand, knocking on the door.


End file.
